


Marinade

by reraimu



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, humping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reraimu/pseuds/reraimu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John adopts a cat. Jealousy ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marinade

 

Your cerulean eyes zealously probe over every inch of space in the room you’re currently standing in. There are food bowls scattered all over the place, each filled with dry kibble and fresh water, and once or twice you have to steer yourself away from accidentally stepping on some kind of plush mouse toy. You’re literally bouncing up and down on the heels of your feet, barely able to contain your delight. In your anticipation, you accidentally knock over a medium sized cat-condo and it topples to the side, thudding against another fuzzy condo.

“Crap!” you mutter under your breath, quickly turning the thing upright. You’re so relieved that there weren’t any cats in there.

“Way to go bulgelicker, knock over the whole god damn place why don’t you,” Karkat sneers behind you. You whip around and find him standing near the door with his sweater-clad arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders hunched. His bright red eyes are narrowed and slanted, the corner of his mouth twisted into a diminutive frown. You can even see a little bit of fang in that frown, how cute—you mean, how adorabloodthirsty.

“It’s all a part of the process, Karkat,” you say to him, sporting a shit-eating grin, the kind of shit-eating grin that always manages to get him to furrow his brow even further. You can practically hear the plethora of curse words just waiting to slip off his pointed tongue. You love it when you rile him up; it is the best thing.

Ignoring the way he clenches his fists against his chest, you turn back around and stand up straight, an indulgent smile spreading across your lips. You look down and scan the floor, ready to get this show on the road and adopt some cats, and gasp with delight when you finally see them. Oh good lord they are the cutest things in this whole entire universe.

The tiled floor of the adoption room is practically covered with cute fluffy kittens, well, maybe not covered entirely (because you’re pretty sure that would be considered over-crowding and a form of animal abuse), but there are enough kittens to send blood pumping to your head so fast that you nearly get dizzy. You start to dance in place, your fingers wriggling at your sides and itching to touch one.

Some of the kittens are lying lazily down across cat condos, some are perched on window sills, and some are just sitting there with their front paws planted right in front of them, staring up at you with a slight tilt to their head. You’re dying inside.

There is one little kitty in particular that catches your eye, a slender calico cat with a black patch over its eye, and before you know it, you find yourself bounding across the room, arms outstretched and eager to pick it up. As soon as it senses your movements though, it tenses up and darts away from you, clambering behind a cat condo. You halt and drop your arms, frowning to yourself. Well, looks like you won’t be getting that one.

You’re back to standing there in the middle of the room. You hear Karkat say “Hah, you’re an idiot” in the background, but you just shrug off his insults like you always do. Seriously, that boy could go on and on sometimes and you’d never hear the end of it.

You suddenly stiffen when you feel something paw at your back. You slowly turn around, and what you see nearly makes you melt into a puddle of gelatinous goo. There’s a cream colored kitten, he looks to be about four or five months old, just sitting there on the ledge of a condo, his small little paw raised in the air. You extend your hand and let him sniff your finger, giggling when you feel his wet nose tickle your skin. When he pulls back and meows at you, you take this as an approval and you lean down and pick him up. His belly is soft and fluffy, and as soon as you press him to your chest, a rather loud purring vibration erupts from this seemingly small little animal, his purr rumbling heartily against your chest. You turn to Karkat, all smiles and laughter, and say, “He’s the one! Can you call the shelter-lady-person and call my dad over here?”

“You fucking do it yourself,” the troll gripes at you. He blows a strand of jagged black hair away from his face.

“Pleeeeeeeease,” you plead, worrying at your bottom lip with your buck teeth. That always seems to get him for some reason, like it’s doing now. He just flips the bird at you and stomps out of the adoption room. You silently laugh to yourself as you watch him flaunt his little rage parade all the way towards the front desk. You already feel sorry for the poor soul who has to service him.

In no time, you hear the adoption door open and in comes a kindly looking old lady with graying hair and glasses. You still have a hard time dealing with people not freaking out over Karkat’s, or any of the other trolls’, appearance. After the game ended, the post-Scratch humans seemed to have been programmed to ignore the trolls’ gray skin and horns, and everything else. You don’t question it.

 You notice your dad’s standing outside, peering in through the plexi-glass window. You hold up your arms, the cat letting out a small meow as you do so, and your dad smiles at you and nods his head.

The woman is holding a manila folder in one hand and a cat-carrying case in the other. She takes a look at the cat in your arms, as if studying it, and opens the folder and rummages around until she plucks out a one-page document.

“This is the one right?” she asks you, nodding her head. You take the paper and look at a small glossy picture taped to the top right corner. The photo is an image of the cat you’re holding. His info sheet says that he’s actually five months, and that he’s a common tabby cat that goes by the name of Hoyt. You frown at his name—you’re definitely going to change it once you adopt him.

“Yep!” you say enthusiastically, handing the paper back to her.

“Okie dokie!” the lady says happily. She sets the carrying case down and opens the latch. “Will you hand Hoyt to me please?”

“That’s a stupid name,” you hear Karkat mutter, and you resist the urge to turn around and stick the tongue out at him. Karkat’s always running his mouth off at something, and though it’s fun to bicker with him, sometimes he can actually be really rude. You peer over your shoulder and scrunch your face at him. He glowers at you. You make a kissy face right back at him.

Once Hoyt is safely in the cage, the shelter employee turns around and opens the door, motioning you to follow her.

“Are you the father?” she stops by your dad. You father merely nods his head. “Good! Now let’s go get that paperwork finalized!” You ignore the way Karkat scowls at you, gritting his teeth and making a little huff of disapproval when you side-step him and head out the door into the lobby area. You imagine he might be one of those people that might hate cats, but eventually he’ll give in and learn to love them! You know he will! You’ll make him, anyway.

You all follow the lady in a single-file line, and once you’re at the front desk, your father steps in and takes over the reins. He turns to you and pulls out a five dollar bill from his wallet.

“You boys wait outside and get something to snack on, this might take a while,” he says. You pluck the bill from his hand and grope around for Karkat. You find the troll standing off to the side, glaring through a window leading into another adoption room. You kind of just stand there, gazing at him, sporting a stupid, dopey grin. Sometimes you like staring at Karkat for no particular reason—he’s fun to look at. His gray face is scrunched up and his pointed teeth are bared and he looks ridiculously adorable, until he starts hissing at the window, and before anyone decides to notice and stare at him, you quickly jog over and snatch his arm, pulling him away from the window. Your cheeks are flushed red as you guide him down the hallway leading outside.

Once you’re out in the open, all blues skies and perfect breezy weather, he snaps his arm away from you and meanders over to a wooden bench lined against a wall. He plops down and leans back, crossing one ankle over the other. He peers up at you through his jagged bangs.

“Are we fucking done now?” he asks with a scowl, squinting his eyes as a ray of sunlight shines down on him. “How long is your dad going to be in there? If I would have known that we’d be spending our whole damn day at a meowbeast facility then I would have stayed home and done something much more fucking productive with my time.”

“And what would you have done then?” you ask, moving to stand in front of him. You clasp your hands behind your back and begin to sway back and forth on the heels of your feet.

“Why is that any of your business?” Karkat snaps, curling his fists by his sides. “Besides, I don’t even know why you’d even want one of those revolting things in the first place. Don’t you have that lizard-thing to tide you over?”

“Okay, first of all, Casey is a salamander, we’ve been over this!” you pipe up, furrowing your brow. Karkat growls at you and turns his head away, crossing his arms over his chest. You frown. “And secondly, I only get to see Casey over webcam!” Perhaps this isn’t the best time to talk about Casey. After the game ended, she had chosen to live with Rose and it had broken your heart into tiny little pieces. It _was_ and _still_ _is_ a delicate subject and you don’t appreciate Karkat bringing it up now of all times. He was always saying how culturally insensitive you are, but _he_ ’s the one always being just plain insensitive!

“Okay, you know what, I’m gonna’ go get a Twix, you want anything?” you ask a little too quickly. You’re hoping that those Twix commercials are true. You really do need a Twix to stuff in your mouth to keep you from saying anything you’ll regret later. Karkat snaps his mouth shut and firmly shakes his head. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose. Karkat is being so difficult right now and you have no idea why. Well, he’s always difficult, but he’s being even more so now. Ever since you mentioned getting a cat two weeks ago, the troll had been firmly against the idea and you still don’t know why! Who doesn’t like cats? Apparently, Karkat.

“Whatever, stay here,” you tell him as you walk away.

“Fuck you,” he responds snidely. You are oh-so-tempted to turn back around and flip him the one finger salute, but you quell the urge. There are people here, mostly children, hoping to fulfill their dreams of owning a pet to nurture and adore and they don’t need their special day ruined because of you and Karkat, but you can’t really do anything about Karkat. Getting him to shut up and calm down was like getting Dave to smile and giggle: it just wouldn’t happen.

As you wander the outside of the adoption facility, you try to remember where you last saw that vending machine. As you turn a corner, you enter a grassy courtyard. The courtyard is pretty damn huge, housing a number of small bungalows containing all sorts of animals from dogs, to cats, to rabbits. The grass is neatly pruned and trimmed, decorated with colorful flowers and stone fountains that stream glittering jets of clear water. There are even butterflies fluttering about the lush flora.

 Your brain kick-starts and you suddenly remember where the vending machine is, and you reroute. It’s by the rabbit center if you’re not mistaken, and when you spot the bungalow in the distance, your eyes skim around the small building and spot a red vending machine lining the wall. You jog towards it and stop in front of it.

There are so many goodies jammed inside that thing that you’re starting to consider buying something besides Twix, but then you think about it and decide that all that chocolate, caramel goodness is just too good to pass up. You feed the machine your bill, punch in the number, grab your prize, and grab the change. You stare at the machine once more, your mind bringing up images of Karkat and his grumpy face. You’re still a bit peeved at his attitude, but you know you can’t really stay mad at him for long. He’s you best Palhoncho, your co-friendleader, and the two of you have been through so much shit that you guys are probably covered in it for the rest of your life. You repeat the vending process, but this time, you purchase a Snickers, a snack you know he has a soft spot for.

You pocket his Snickers and tear open your Twix, munching on it as you stride around the courtyard. Even though you’re not as peeved as you were before, you still don’t want to deal with Karkat until you have your kitty in your arms again, so you decide to detour.

You pass a series of little bungalows until you hit a particular building that is specific to cats only. You instantly start to feel guilty. If you’d have taken the time before hand to explore the back end of the animal shelter, maybe you might have noticed this one. You open the door and step inside, wandering down a narrow hallway that has doors on either side of the corridor. Each room is filled with rows of kennels, and in each kennel, is a cat. You realize this is where the new recruits are kept because of the capture dates on the kennel tags. All of the cats here are older, and some look like they’ve been through some tough shit. Yep, you’re feeling pretty darned guilty right now.

You survey each kennel, sticking your fingers into the cages of what you instinctively assume are friendly cats. Some meow at you and rub against your hand, some lick your fingers and you can’t help but let out a small chuckle. They’re all so cute and adorable and you wish you could take them all home, but you can’t.

You halt in front of a kennel that houses a white Persian cat. As soon as you get close to its cage, it stands up and meows at you, rubbing its face against the kennel bars. You coo at it and stick your fingers in through the metal rungs, stroking its chin and rubbing its ears. This cat is really affectionate.

“Hello there sweetie,” you say to it, rubbing the palm of your hand against the side of its face. It meows at you again, letting a purr trill from its body. “Aww, you’re so cute, you little fluff ball. Your face is so fat and fluffy and I just wanna’ --ack!”

You are suddenly yanked backwards. Lean arms wrap around your midriff. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as you look up and find Karkat staring down at you, a customary glare to his eyes and a frown to his lips. His arms tighten around you, the pointed ends of his claws gently running along your clothed tummy.

“I should have known you’d derp out and get yourself lost, I fucking swear,” he snips, his hold growing tighter. This time his tone is more lax, which you’re grateful for. “Pack it up Egbert; your dad’s waiting in the car with that hideous beast.”

You don’t respond. You’re kind of busy basking in his warmth and snuggling your back into his chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum along your spine.

“Okay, but can I just pet it one more time, I don’t wanna’ leave it hanging,” you say more than ask, about to worm your way out of Karkat’s hold, but before you even manage to pry one arm off, he’s turning you slowly around until you’re both face-to-face, his hands snaking their way to your shoulders. He’s staring at you now, vermilion eyes marginally narrowed, a contemplative look on his face. He still looks grumpy, but it’s not as sharp as it usually is, and you find yourself giving him a warm smile.

He then leans in and cups your face with one hand, bringing his lips to yours, and you’re kissing. It’s slow and soft and sweet, all teeth and tongue, and it’s so much more different than the sloppy, needy kisses you two usually exchange. In the heat of the moment, your hands begin to fidget and you want to hold on to something, touch something, and it’s as if Karkat senses this and laces his long, spindly fingers with yours. He kisses your bottom lip and roves his tongue over your buckteeth, and even though it feels so incredibly wonderful that he’s suddenly lavishing you with all this attention, it’s really starting to freak you out because you’re both basically making out **in front of a bunch of cats.**

You pull away; still in a bit of a daze, and once the haze clears from your eyes, you suddenly remember you have a snack for him. You rummage through your short’s pocket and pull out his Snickers.

“For you,” you quip, tapping the end of the Snickers bar to his chest.

“What the fuck Egbert, here we are having a tender moment together and you suddenly want to feed me. Is that your sick twisted fetish; is that the kind of shit you like? Because I don’t, John. I don’t.”

You punch him in the arm and tell him to shut up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s been about a month since you first adopted Gamma. Sometimes you can’t believe that his name had actually been Hoyt, which had been such an atrociously boring name. You’re so glad you renamed him.

You’re sleepily clambering down the stairs, rubbing your eyes to clear away the gunk that collected there overnight. Your steps are dense and anything but light, and Gamma seems to hear you from his cat bed downstairs in the living room. As soon as you step foot off the staircase, Gamma is already threading his body between your legs, rubbing his face against your calf and meowing at you like there’s no tomorrow. You frown down at him and stick out your tongue, he only gets like this when he’s hungry.

“Yeah, yeah, hold your horses,” you mumble under your breath, bending down to pick him up. He’s gotten a bit heavier under your care. There’s a small pouch of fat hanging from his belly and he’s thick and warm against your chest, happily purring away. You hug him and place a kiss to his nose, scratching underneath his chin.

When you step foot into the kitchen, you look to the table and find that Karkat is already seated on a chair, a bowl of cereal placed in front of him. As soon as he hears you come in, the troll immediately looks at the cat and fixes Gamma with a sharp glare, baring his fangs. The cat lets out a frightening hiss. Now, Gamma is a very well behaved cat and he’s usually very mellow, but around Karkat, the cat’s demeanor seems to change. It’s like the both of them can communicate on some 6th sense level, and let’s just say they don’t get along at all. You hug Gamma tighter to your chest.

“Look at how cute he is Karkat!” you tease the troll, grabbing one of Gamma’s paws between your fingers. For some reason, Karkat doesn’t like Gamma one bit and you like to take advantage of this. You tilt your head down and place a kiss atop the cat’s head, then anchor your eyes back on Karkat, wriggling your eyebrows. “He’s so waaarm and cuddly and adorable.”

“Shut up, it’s too fucking early in the morning for me to put up with your hoofbeast shit,” Karkat growls at you, stirring his spoon around his bowl. You only chuckle at him and proceed to lift Gamma up in the air, pressing your cheek against the cat’s whiskers. At this, a low throaty growl erupts from where Karkat’s sitting and you jump in surprise. Gamma’s ears lower on his head.

Okay, woah, you’ve never heard Karkat growl like that before. You quirk your eyebrow at the Cancer, who merely huffs at you and continues eating his cereal. You place Gamma on the floor and head towards the cabinet that stores his dry cat food. You pluck the bag out and empty a bit of it into the cat’s food bowl.

“Why are you even up so early anyway?” you ask aloud, taking a seat beside Karkat. He shifts his body away from you so that you’re partially staring at his back. He’s hunched over his cereal bowl, shoveling the sugary flakes into his mouth. You reach out and poke him with your finger. “Aww, come on Karkat, don’t be like that.”

Of course, he simply ignores you and continues spoon-feeding himself. You sigh and lean your elbow on the edge of the table, placing the side of your cheek on your palm. Your prankster’s gambit kicks in and an idea comes to you. You reign in the urge to smile and clear your mind, turning your grin into a straight lined frown. You are now sporting the most authentic poker face, taught by Dave Strider himself, and you continue to sit there and stare at Karkat’s back.

After 30 seconds pass by, you can see him start to visibly crack. He hunches his shoulders in further and once or twice you see his head twitch as if he’s about to turn around and give you what for, but at the last minute he decides against it and remains stationary.

Finally, you get to him and he whips around and glares at you, his face all sharp angles and narrowed eyes, and all the while you’re still schooling a pretty awesome poker face. He stares at you and you stare at him and you don’t even feel like giggling, that’s how mock-serious you are right now. Wow, your face might be a little too awesome, because Karkat’s face is softening and his expression is starting to look bothered, almost as if he’s concerned, and you tell yourself _not yet_. Let’s see how far you can take this.

Your gambit is about to skyrocket, you can already feel it.

You let out a deep sigh and scoot back from the table, heaving yourself up and away. You can hear the way Karkat’s spoon clinks against the porcelain bowl as you bend down and scoop Gamma up into your arms.

“Come on Gamma, let’s go to my room,” you whisper to the cat, pressing him to your chest, and with that, you exit the kitchen and make your way to the stairs. In your peripheral, you can see Karkat hastily getting up from his seat, abandoning his cereal. You let a soft smile capture your lips, but you’re not done yet.

You start climbing the first couple of steps one at a time, going slowly, allowing Karkat to catch up with you. He doesn’t know that you know he’s following you, and that just makes it even better, because in the next second, you’re bounding the steps two a time, your feet slapping against the floor. You can hear Karkat sprinting after you; his shoes making a racket as he practically lunges all the way up the stairs. In a fit of adrenaline, you rocket down the hallway and make it to your room just in time to slam the door on Karkat’s face, locking it for good measure.

“Egbert.” His voice is curt and laced with irritation, slightly muffled through the door. He toggles the doorknob.

“What?” you ask him innocently, and this time, you laugh.

“Open it,” he commands.

“Hmm, nope, no can do!” you tease, holding Gamma aloft. “Gamma and I are just going to bond and cuddle.” You’re hoping this gets a rise from Karkat. It does.

“I am not playing with you, John,” he hisses, toggling the knob again. “You are a grade-A nooklicker, you know that? I can’t believe how moronic you’re being right now. Here I am stuck on this filthy ball of dirt you call a planet, and I have to constantly be subjected to your immature stunts involving buckets, fucking buckets John!, and your annoying meowbeast that does nothing but eat, sleep, and shit all day. I have done nothing to deserve this kind of treatment. You are an absolute shitty host, and—fuck you, are you laughing?”

Why yes, yes you are. You are laughing so hard that you have to put Gamma down. Your cheeks are flushed bright red and there are the beginnings of tears welling at the corner of your eyes. Oh man, sometimes Karkat could be pretty hilarious sometimes. His insults are always so lengthy and never-ending, and the thing about the buckets! Haha! You always get him so good with those.

This time, you find yourself unlocking and opening your door, swinging it open only to find Karkat with his hands pressed tightly to his sides, his gray face tinged red. He looks so embarrassed and livid and attractive that you just continue to laugh even harder. Somewhere in all your laughter Gamma escapes and heads downstairs

“Fucker,” Karkat growls, and the next thing you know, you’re being pushed back all the way across the room, your wrists snatched up by his hands. He holds your wrists up on either side of you, his body so close that you can smell his sweet breath, which smells like sugar and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. There are little burbles of laughter escaping you, your eyes watery and filmy as you try to get your wits together. Karkat doesn’t appreciate your good humor and snarls at you in frustration, squeezing your wrists until they start to hurt.

“Ow, okay, okay, I’ll stop!” you say through a few giggles, wincing as pain shoots up your arms. You shut your mouth and purse your lips, staring up at Karkat as if you hadn’t just finished laughing your ass off at his expense. Now, when you put it like that, you do start to feel just a tad bit guilty. You know Karkat is easy to anger and you really shouldn’t be taking advantage of that, because you love him and you know messing with his feelings is something only a douchenozzle would do, but it’s just so god. Damned. Fun.

“You are deliberately messing with me,” Karkat utters lowly, bumping his forehead against yours. You merely grin up at him.

“Well, if you already know that, then why go along with it?”

“How can I not?” he grumbles, eyes narrowing. You’re both standing in the middle of the room, your bodies sandwiched together, and you can see that his face is flushed, pigments of dusty red staining tough gray skin. Sometimes when the both of you are this close to each other, your heart runs away with everything else in your body and you start to fidget and squirm where you are, but of course, Karkat’s not letting you do that right now because his hold on you is that tight.

“There’s no reason to be jealous of a cat,” you mutter, and you know he hears you loud and clear because his entire body tenses and he says nothing to you in reply. You widen your eyes and stare up at him, confounded, because it all makes sense now. “Holy crap Karkat, are you…are you jealous of Gamma? Is that why you’re always so--?”

“—don’t even finish that sentence Egbert,” Karkat hisses, pressing his hand to your mouth. You slap his hand away.

“You’re jealous of a cat!” you gasp. You press both of your hands to his face and squeeze his cheeks together, expertly moving out of the way when he tries to snap at your wrists with his teeth. “That’s really kind of cute actually.”

“Why the fuck would I ever be envious of that pathetic pile of fur,” the troll lashes out, clearly bristled.

“Well dude, you only ever get this angry when I pick him up or cuddle him or something.”

“Because after that, you end up smelling like fucking ‘cat’ the whole damn day!”

“That’s impossible! I spray Febreze on my clothes!”

“The scent is still there idiot.”

“Well trolls must have really sensitive noses or something, and I probably only smell like that because he marks his scent on me numbnuts!”

There is silence afterwards. You never knew Karkat could be so deathly quiet, and it’s really starting to unnerve you. His hands are back to his sides again and he’s standing stock still, eyes wide. It looks as if someone just told him he has a terminal illness.

“Meowbeasts on this planet _do_ that?” he murmurs bleakly, staring at the ground. He looks back up and looks at you, as if he’s expecting some sort of confirmation. You slowly nod your head.

“That’s usually what happens when you own a cat,” you begin. “I love the cat, the cat loves me—it’s only natural that Gamma starts marking me with his scent. It’s normal! Actually, that’s supposed to be a strong form of trust, because it means he’s claiming me as his.” You’re all giggles and smiles when you say that last bit. It makes you happy to know that your cat already trusts you this much. You rescued him from certain death, and knowing he’s happy and healthy with you makes you feel warm inside.

You wish it was the same for Karkat.

He pulls away from you, a look of disbelief on his face. His red eyes are wide and probing, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. He looks sort of confused, as if he has absolutely no idea what to do. Oh god, you hope you didn’t say anything wrong. It feels as though your stomach drops when Karkat quickly turns away and makes for the door. You call out to him, ready to apologize to keep him from leaving, but you snap your mouth shut when Karkat doesn’t walk out, but instead slams the door with a bang and locks it shut. He swivels back around, eyeing you like a hawk from across the room. You suddenly feel very nervous.

You start to slowly back away, your bare feet sliding along the floorboards. “Welp, I’m really hungry and I’m gonna’ go get some breakfast, so--.”

Karkat strides across the room and grabs your upper arm, leaning forward to say something in an impossibly thick voice, “You’re not going anywhere.”

You can’t help the sudden thrum of heat that pools at the pit of your belly. He takes a step forward, and you take one backward, and you both repeat this dance pattern until the back of your knees hit the edge of your mattress. You let out a small grunt when Karkat pushes you down onto the bed, your back thumping against your thick quilted comforter.

Your fingers are drumming along the front of your chest as you look up at Karkat, who’s leaning over you with his knee wedged between your thighs. Your face is probably as red as his eyes. You have no idea what came over the troll, because he usually doesn’t do spontaneous things like this, and you hate to admit that yes, you’re really confused. He’s just leaning over you, both of his hands planted by either side of your head. His eyes are kind of filmy, clouded even, and his lips are parted, revealing two rows of razor sharp teeth behind black painted lips.

“What?” you whisper up at him, reaching out a hand to trail your fingers over his jaw line. He seems to snap out of whatever stupor he’s in, eyes flickering to life, and you softly gasp when he turns his head and kisses your roving fingers. You flush even redder, if that’s even possible.

“Shut up,” he says quietly, eyes still narrowed, and you do, because his lips are suddenly on yours, soft, wet, and warm, and he tastes like cinnamon. The kiss is slow and languid, the kind of kiss that’s sweet to its core, inside and out. His tongue laps at the seam of your mouth and you welcomingly oblige him, parting your lips to let him slither in. Soon, the both of you are tongue-tied, gently nipping at each other’s lips and moaning into each other’s mouths until the passion of the kiss hits its climax and you both pull away. You’re left breathless and starry-eyed, letting a goofy smile spread across your face when you see that Karkat is more or less the same.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” you break the silence, softly carding your fingers through his thick, course hair. Your hand finds the base of one horn, and instead of taking the whole thing into your hand and stroking it like you usually do, you finger around the horn’s base in a circle, massaging his scalp. He trills at you, a soft vibration rumbling at the back of his throat. You like it when he does that. Usually, you have to nibble at his neck to get him to start purring and you’re secretly pleased that it’s so easy this time around.

The purring only gets stronger when your hand leaves his horn and your fingers trail behind one pointy ear, massaging the soft skin there. He nudges your hand away and practically smothers you with his body, snaking his arms around your back and clasping his hands at the base of your back, thus lifting your body off the bed. His rumbling chest is pressed against yours and it’s the best feeling. He’s warm and vibrating against you, flecks of red dusting his skin as he rests his head in the crook of your neck and breathes you in. You squirm when you feel his hot breath puff against the hypersensitive skin along your collar.

It doesn’t take long before he starts mouthing at you. His lips are wet and warm and they tingle as he kneads his lips against your skin, fingers burrowing underneath your shirt to glide along the lower part of your back. You gasp and arch into him, cradling his head as he continues to kiss your neck, the occasional swipe of his tongue causing you to shudder against him.

You eagerly spread your legs wider when he adds his other knee into the mix, so now he’s fully between your thighs, his body parallel to your own. You nearly lose it when he starts to gently gyrate his hips, thrusting so slowly and shallowly that it can barely be called a thrust. He’s pushing against you, your back rubbing up and down against the mattress as he continues to lavish your neck with wet, sloppy kisses. His fingers are gently clawing at your back and you’re so lost in a state of pure bliss that you literally jerk to awareness when you feel his fangs lightly scraping against your neck.

He feels you tense up beneath him and he simply nuzzles your jawline with his nose, pressing his lips to your ear to whisper a throaty, “Fucking relax.” Your limbs turn to jelly at his heady command and you wrap your shaky arms around his neck, pulling his mouth closer to you. He’s sucking and biting at you and your arms only tighten their hold around him.  You really don’t know what you’re doing. You feel sort of lost. He shoves against you and you’re thrusting back, and his whole body is vibrating so violently that you can hear your teeth chatter. You decide to be bold and arch your back until your crotch presses against his, and at this, he growls against you and meets back with equal force.

“Nngh,” you grunt when he starts to rut against you, using one knee to palm against your bulge. There’s a reddish wet spot forming between his legs. “Oh god Karkat, _hahh_ , oh man.” Karkat leaves your neck and presses a sloppy kiss to your mouth, effectively stifling the next moan that threatens to escape. He hugs you tighter as his thrusts get faster, more powerful, and you try to match his pace but your thighs are starting to get tired so you just spread your legs as wide as they can go and you let him pound into you.

“Mmm,” you babble incoherently, running your fingers along the sides of his face, over the slope of his nose, even underneath his chin, and he nearly erupts in a rumble. At this guttural sound, so foreign and alien to you, you push away from him. Your insides are tightening and you can feel your dick twitching against the confines of your boxers and pajama pants, and if you don’t stop now, you’re afraid you’re going to burst.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” you mumble shakily, your eyes rolling up at a particular sharp thrust. He shakes his head against you, nipping at the exposed line of your chest. “W-what if, _ah_ , you come and you stain my sheets?”

He squeezes your side and flicks his tongue over your bottom lip. “You know it takes a lot more to even get me to that point.”

Ohh, he’s got you there. Ignoring your pleas to get him to let you go, Karkat continues to dry hump you, the bulge in his pants grazing repeatedly over your own. Before you know it, your toes are curling and your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, your dick twitching once, twice, then finally, you’re coming and staining the front of your boxers with Egbert spunk. You let out a small whine of embarrassment when you finish, your cock softening between your thighs. Your nether regions are so sensitive that you whimper when Karkat takes his knee away, unwrapping your arms from around his neck. You struggle to catch your breath and fan yourself with one hand, brushing sweaty bangs away from your forehead.

You muster all the strength you have left and sit up on your elbows, staring down at your pajama pants. You can feel your come cooling against your thighs and it feels so very unpleasant. Karkat rolls his eyes at you brings his hands to your belly, threading his clawed fingers underneath the waistline of your pants. He folds the material down and proceeds to tug them off your person. He does the same thing with your boxers and discards them on the floor with your pajamas.

You stare down at your flat stomach, you dick soft and limp against your tummy. There are also a few beads of come speckling your thighs—you grimace. Before you have time to even get up and make to clean yourself, Karkat wraps an arm around you and pulls you along the bed.

“Hey! Dude, come on! I need to clean myself!” you yell at him, grunting when he begins to kick his legs underneath your comforter.

“I’m doing that thing that Gamzee does, the fucker,” is Karkat’s only reply.

“What thing?” you ask indignantly.

“The thing he does when he smokes that foul smelling plant.”

“What?”

“It involves boxes, John!” the trolls says in irritation. You purse your lips and begin to wrack your brain. You’re pretty sure Karkat’s talking about marijuana. Since there’s no such thing as sopor slime on Earth, Gamzee had to have something along the lines of an equivalent to keep him stable, and surprisingly, bud seemed to do the trick. You really have to thank Dave someday. A metaphorical light bulb switches on in your head.

“Ohhh! Hot boxing!” you say aloud.

“Yeah, that,” Karkat quips. Without waiting for you to respond, he burrows the rest of his body underneath the blankets and flops you over, butt-naked and all, and pulls you underneath a mound of pillows and fluffy blankets. He closes the comforter around you both and huddles against a pillow, pulling your body flush against his. He’s the big spoon, and unfortunately, you’re the little one. Not to mention that you’re nude from the waist down and you can feel him pitching a tent between your naked thighs. Oh man, the front of his pants is nearly drenched in his alien pre-come.

“This is gross Karkat,” you whine, trying to pry his arms off you. “We smell like sex and sweat--.”

“Exactly,” he cuts in, resting his head against the nape of your neck. He’s purring behind you.

“I still don’t get why this has anything to do with hot boxing….” Holy shit, you suddenly get it now. You try to turn around and show him how baffled you are. “Are you trying to mark me with your scent?? Is this a thing you’re actually doing?” No wonder he sexed you up, no wonder he’s trying to marinate you in the scent of your love-making…by burying you in a mound of blankets and letting the musk seep into you.

You don’t know whether to be flattered, or repulsed.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> what the fuck did i write


End file.
